


The Curse Of Life

by Gray_Sanders



Category: Darksiders (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Inhuman, Serpent Holes (Darksiders), balance, bff vulgrim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28617579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gray_Sanders/pseuds/Gray_Sanders
Summary: "Who the hell are you?" asked Death."Oh, I'm just a humble merchant, my dear horseman! Would you like to look at my wares?""Ugh, you sound just like Vulgrim."A story in which Death encounters a strange being in the Maker realm. She uses serpent holes just like the demon merchant Vulgrim and seems to know him to some extent. But the strange thing is that while she looks like a demon, she doesn't feel like one. Follow Death and (Y/N) on their jurneys that meet at more than one point along the way... more than either of them would have ever expected.(Slow burn romance)(Based on the game Darksiders 2 - the game and characters belong to their rightful owners, I own only the plot of this story)
Relationships: Death (Darksiders)/Original Character(s), Death (Darksiders)/Reader, Vulgrim (Darksiders) & Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

Before we begin, I would like to say that this book is following the game Darksiders 2 but there will, of course, be some minor changes for the sake of the reader being included in the story. Also I won't be following the exact dialogue from the game as I have played it some time ago and I don't really want to copy it word by word. The quests will still be there and all but the sentences will most probably be worded differently. Plus I am too lazy to search all the dialogue and I am not gonna play the game again for it's sake.

Don't get me wrong, I love it, have completed it about three times and would do so again, I just don't want to stop it everytime someone says something just so I could write it down. I would end up just playing it without doing so anyway. But I still hope you enjoy the story! Tho I might look for some of the crucial conversations online so I can get them right.

**!WARNING!**

**This story contains violence, blood and similar things! I am not much of a fan of gore but at some points I feel like it is necesarry. With that said, this is the only warning I will give because it will follow us a lot throughout the story and without reading those parts, you would understand none of the character development and all that. So please, read at your own risk...**

With that said, let's get into it!


	2. Prologue: The Humble Merchant

Death was annoyed to say the least. He had no intention of helping the makers with their little corruption problem but it just had to be in his way to the Tree of life anyway. And now Eideard wanted him to 'restore the fire and the tears of the mountain' because that's the only way to save his world from being swallowed by the nasty disease. Hopefully he wasn't lying when he said that this would help the horseman get through the sealed off gate. But deep down he knew that a maker wouldn't lie to him out of everyone. He was the deadliest of the horsemen after all.

So far he has met only a few of the makers. Alya and her brother Valus were the ones working in the forge. The blind shaman of Tristone Muria was wise and seemed to know more than she said. Eideard, the village elder, was loved by his people and would do anything to protect them and Thane, the strong warrior, was always going around training if he wasn't out hunting. It seemed as if no one else was living here, he wondered what happened to the other makers...

Well, he didn't really have much time to just stroll around, he wanted to have this quest done as soon as possible so he could continue on his journey of fixing his youngest brother's mistake. After checking that his scythes were sharp and ready to slay some corrupted constructs and other vermin, he set off to the gates of Tristone. Before he could leave the village however, he stopped in his tracks.

_"I should really go get some potions and maybe a talisman from Muria before I go... they could come in handy."_ the nephilim thought and changed his direction.

When he arrived at the home of the white-haired lady, she was gazing out into the woods. Death cleared his throat to alert her of his presence and made his way towards her.

"Ah, horseman. I see you have come to stop by before you go, to seek some of my potions perhaps?" she asked.

The man nodded at her: "They could be useful if I get into some unpleasant situation."

"Indeed they would. How many would you like?"

"Three will be enough."

"As you wish, horseman."

The maker handed him the vials containing the sparkly green liquid and when he didn't say anything else, turned her back to him and walked back onto her little terrace. Why she stared into the forest when she had no sight, he didn't know.

As he started turning around to leave, her calm voice stopped him.

"Before you go, horseman, remember that not everything in this land is evil and corrupted. Do be careful."

"I know my way around a battlefield, shaman. No need to teach me."

And just like that he was gone, unknowing that the woman was implying something completely different.

***

As Death was riding his horse towards the Cauldron, he couldn't help but notice the beauty of the world around him. If the Forge Lands weren't infected by corruption, it would be a very beautiful place. But he didn't really have the time for thoughts like that. Suddenly he heard a quiet sound, as if a tiny wind chime was ringing in the distance. It wasn't unpleasant but it brought back memories of a certain someone. And when he noticed the curved glyphs swinging lightly in the wind above an entrance to a narrow path between the mountains, he knew that it wasn't just a resemblance. For some reason _he_ was here in the realm of makers.

He directed Despair towards the path and slowly approached a strange pedestal on the ground. He hopped off of his horse and motioned for it to leave. It disappeared with a neigh and once again he was all alone. But not for long. After a few steps towards the pedestal, blue light and fog shot out of it and in the middle, a demon appeared. He had giant horns on his head and his long bony fingers were adorned by many golden rings.

"Greetings, horseman. And welcome... I've been expecting you." the creature said in a sinister, but not hostile voice.

He knew who this demon was. His slender face with big fangs, bandaged tiny wings that wouldn't hold up his weight even if he prayed to god... and yet he was still somehow hovering above the ground. With a scroll by his waist and a sinister smile, he could be only one person.

"Vulgrim... what brings you crawling out of the shadows?"

The demon chuckled and answered: "I wouldn't want to lose my most valuable customer. Not to the things that lurk on the edge of the shadows. So here I am and I have come to offer my wares."

He sure was suspicious. But that was how he always acted, mysterious, talking in riddles. And yet the horseman knew thar there was something more behind that unsettling smile of his.

"What do you know that I don't?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing at all, horseman. I merely follow the trails of carnage. Your blades are as sharp as ever, I see... But even then I might still be able to offer some help as I carry thing some would... frown upon."

Of course he did, when did he not? This demon was always at the right place at the right time, carrying helpful items. That didn't mean that Death approved of him but he had to admit that his help could be useful at times. Still, he was suspicious of him. After all this was the demon that liked to feast on souls of the dead and requested no other payment. But the oldest horseman respected the dead and would never take on such a deal and Vulgrim knew that. And so, he agreed to do business with him even if it meant only gold and Boatman's coins.

"Come on, take a look!" encouraged the demon.

And so he did. But he didn't find anything to his liking. Maybe some other time his luck would be better.

"Nothing I could use right now." he said coldly and started to leave.

"Wait wait wait, horseman. I have another deal for you." when the nephilim stopped in his tracks, the demon continued, "There are pages missing from the Book of the Dead and you will surely encounter many of them along your path. Bring them to me and your reward will be... Pleasant at least."

Death only grunted in answer. He surely wouldn't actively look for them but if he encountered some by chance, there was no harm in bringing them along.

"And horseman?"

"What is it Vulgrim?" he growled in annoyance at being bothered by the demon again.

"If you are heading towards the Cauldron, you might encounter a friend of mine. Do be polite please." and with that he disappeared.

What the hell did he mean by that? Was there another demon hiding in the Forge Lands? Well, there wasn't a very high chance of that, most demons didn't get along with the merchant at all. So who could this 'friend' be? He would have to keep his eyes open. If another demon was here, who knew what they were conspiring together... Damn that guy, leaving after making his head flooded by so many questions.

_"Whatever."_ he thought and set off again.

***

Finally he could see the gates of the Cauldron. He expected the place to be quiet a eerie - waiting for someone to step a foot in so all hell could break loose. But that wasn't the case. A young maker was swinging his hammer around, smashing corrupted constructs left and right. He seemed to be faring well but it was obvious that he needed a bit of help. And so Death stepped in.

Just as a construct was about to smash it's rocky fist into the maker's unguarded back, its arm was cut clean off. If the thing could even get confused, now would be the moment for it. It turned around towards it's new attacker. A man, much smaller than the one it has been fighting up until now was standing there, dual scythes in his hands. And no matter his size, he seemed to be as strong if not stronger than the maker.

Black tendrils of corruption found their way outside of the armless shoulder and stretched to grab the rocks lying lifelessly on the ground. Death watched in silence as the corruption infested monster put itself back together, the arm now showing the inky darkness below. It was pulsing with life but it wasn't alive at the same time, a disgusting sight.

Just as it swung it's fist back to land a, without doubt, fatal blow, the horseman sprung into action. He swiftly avoided the rock coming in to smash him into the ground and moved behind the raging construct. It turned around as quickly as it could but it still wasn't enough, the pale man was gone from it's sight yet again. And suddenly it's head was flying through the air, a sudden weight on it's shoulders. The corruption tried to catch it in time but it's tendrils were cut off by the sharp blades before they could reach the head. 

Life left the construct and it tumbled down to the ground as nothing more than a pile of cracking stones. With no host to keep it alive, the corruption tried to desperately infect anything, anything at all, to stay up and kicking. But there was nothing. Death wouldn't be weak enough to let it control him, constructs were falling dead left and right around it, all of them meeting the same fate brought by the scythes or the maker's hammer. And with that said, the ugly black thing finally gave up and turned into a pitiful dead sticky liquid that seeped into the ground.

As the last of their enemies crumbled to the ground, Death looked at the maker next to him. He was breathing heavily but he had a proud smile on his face. The giant turned to him and reached out his hand in a greeting.

"Thanks for yer help. I thought I coulda handle 'em alone but there were too many."

He didn't look like the other makers Death has met in Tristone. He lacked the air of grace around him. His head was bald and scars littered his whole body. A few piercings in his pointy ears indicated the rebelious nature.

"I know who ye are but ye don't know me! Most people call me pup or lad, but I prefer my own name. Karn."

Oh, so young and innocent he was for this world. Death has heard of a youngster called pup in Tristone, he was way too confident in his skills and craved fame and glory for his heroic deeds. But there were centuries ahead for that. For now he was just a kid amongst the wise and old.

The pale nephilim smirked and nodded at the maker: "Pup it is then."

The proud smile fell off of Karn's face but he couldn't let this discourage him.

"The temple in this volcano was sealed off when the corruption struck. I've been 'ere for days but I can't find a way in. I knew that others probably asked this of ye already but I have to ask too. Please, restore the fire of this mountain. I know that someone like ye can do it."

Death nodded. He was planning to do so anyway.

"If it ain't too much to ask... the last time I was inside, I lost some stuff. If ye find it, could ye bring it back to me? Means a lot to me."

"I won't go looking for it, pup... But if I see it, I might just take it along."

***

It wasn't easy but finally, the Fire of the Mountain was restored. Death had to fight a corrupted construct called Gharn but he managed in the end. Gharn was made to protect the Cauldron but he ended up going crazy and attacked anyone he encountered. After his time in the blazing volcano, the horseman was glad to finally get out and breathe in the cool air of the forest. He was used to lava and all that but he couldn't help but prefer the cold.

"Hey, pup! I found your dish inside of that hell hole. Why you'd bring something like that inside is beyond my comprehension but I won't ask." and he threw the silver platter to the maker.

"Thanks..."

And with that Death set off back to Tristone. Suddenly he heard the sound of a wind chime ringing through the air. But that couldn't be right... Vulgrim's little hiding place was still far away. And then it was her again. A soft ringing coming from somewhere deeper in the forest. Now, Death wasn't one to waste time but this really piqued his curiosity. Did Vulgrim have another location here? But he never had two so close to each other... So what could it be?

And so the pale horseman decided that it wouldn't hurt to wait a little with returning to the maker village and checking this out. He turned Despair to the right and slowly took off into the forest.

"Dust, go ahead and look for dangers." he said to the crow perched on his shoulder and it did just as he said.

As he got closer, the chiming was more and more clear but Dust didn't seem to be returning. It seemed quite safe to proceed. He got off of his horse and decided to walk the rest of the way on foot. That way he could alert less attention. He walked for a little while until he could see a clearing between the old trees. Golden rays of sunlight shone upon the ground in the clearing.

And there, in the middle of a swirling green symbol partially hidden in the lush grass, was a figure sitting with her legs crossed. And on her forearm was his trusted companion Dust leaning into her small hand petting his feathered head. Feeling its master nearby, Dust cawed and turned his head in his direction.

_"So much for going unnoticed..."_ thought Death as the creature sitting in the grass turned her head to look at him as well.

She had pale, almost white, skin as if she was dead. Her eyes were of twinkling (e/c) and shone with curiosity. She had about waist length inky black hair that was laying against her shoulder blades in a complicated thick braid. And then his eyes reached the crown of her head. There, big curved horns protruded from her forehead.

There was no doubt that this was a demon.

But there was something strange about her. Unlike other female demons he has encountered, her attire wasn't made to look seductive and revealing, it was quite the opposite actually. She was dressed like a warrior. Her torso was covered by a fitted black tunic and partially hidden under her dark green shawl was a chest piece of light leather armor peeking out. Her left arm was swallowed by a large steel gauntlet almost up to her shoulder that made the arm seem much bigger than the other one. And maybe it was. The fingers of the gauntlet had sharp claws looking like they could tear almost anything into shreds. On the other hand, her right arm was left bare down to her wrist where a leather glove covered her palm and fingers. She was wearing knee-high boots with steel buckles and pants of the same color as her shawl.

Death noticed he has been staring at the demoness for about two minutes now and reluctantly walked out of the shadows. Her eyes haven't left him either but she was still petting Dust at the same time.

"Hello, how may I help you?" she asked while standing up to face him.

She was quite small in comparison to him, he noted. Still he didn't like the thought of demons coming to live here in the Forge Lands and meeting two in just one day made him wonder how many more there were.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked with more hostility than he intended.

But the demoness didn't seem fazed at all and only shot him a toothy grin that revealed her sharp canines.

"Oh, I'm just a humble merchant, my dear horseman! Would you like to look at my wares?" 

"Ugh, you sound just like Vulgrim." Death sighed.

"Oh my, you have met him? How is my dear friend doing?" she asked, still smiling.

Of course this would be the friend the demon was talking about.

"Good as ever, that smug bastard." the horseman growled.

"Glad to hear that. So, I will ask once again, would you like to see what I am selling?" and with that she pulled out a small charm, "Take this for example. It is a talisman, that can protect your little bird friend when you send him out on his own."

He considered the offer. It did sound quite tempting, he had to admit.

"What do you want for it, _humble merchant_? If you are acquainted with Vulgrim, you are probably also aware of the fact that I don't deal in souls."

"Why, how rude of me, I haven't even introduced myself! My name is (Y/N), my dear pale horseman, feel free to call me that. As for the price, I do not care for souls anyway. All I want for that talisman is 20 gold."

And he gave her just that. It was a good price.

"It was a pleasure dealing with you." (Y/N) grinned at him but before he could say anything else, ask her some of the things he wanted to know, she was gone. 

The demoness disappeared in a puff of green smoke, the symbol glowed a little and then it went dull. Yes, she definitely was like Vulgrim. Another _humble merchant._


	3. Dust and Ashes

He didn't want anything to do with her and that was okay. She expected it. And yet it somehow hurt to see someone look at her with such disgust and distrust. His eyes screamed 'what the hell is your kind doing here, crawl back to the hole you came out of'. It was strange how much those fiery eyes of his reminded her of the days long gone and of the ones when her whole life changed. They reminded her of the pain she felt then, of the fear and yet she somehow liked how they looked. Sharp and orange, they seemed familiar. But she knew not to look into them for too long because after all, no matter how warm and welcoming they seemed to her, there was hostility in the eyes of Death.

The merchant sighed, maybe she should have stayed a little longer. The horseman seemed like he had more things to ask her but she decided to run away before he had the chance to do so. After all, she was a very cautious creature. Her long life has taught her that no one should be easily trusted, not even a longterm costumer of Vulgrim. He trusted the nephilim not to kill him on sight but she lacked such luxuries. After all this was their first meeting and Death was already suspicious of her. Not good, not good at all.

Then again, she didn't have to run into him again if he turned out to be a thread. After all, not even he could just enter a parallel dimension created by someone. Yes, that was right, (Y/N) the humble merchant had something quite similar to The Void Vulgrim has created for himself. But while her friend has offered her countless times to move into it and freely use his serpent holes, she always refused. The demon sometimes had visitors and she didn't want to risk encountering someone unprepared. They could be dangerous for all she knew.

And so, after a lot of convincing, the old demon taught her the way to make a small dimension for herself to stay in and travel through. Now that she thought of it, he was the one to teach her most of the things she knew.

How lucky she was to have a friend like him. It was quite unusual for demons to make real friends after all. When it became convenient, they always betrayed each other so they preffered the term allies or associates. But Vulgrim? He was a true friend to her. So many oppurtunities have arrised in the past when he could have thrown her into an enemies hands for profit but he never did. He was a greedy demon, she knew that and he'd do many things for something he wanted. But for some reason he was willing to give up new artifacts and many other things just to protect her. True, he would always find a way to get his hands on them afterwards, sometimes she was the person to bring them to him but it still felt nice. In all of the worlds, he was the demon she could trust. And that was the thing that kept her alive.

She looked around. Right now she was in her small home she has built inside The Crevice, her own dimension. It was rather similar to The Void but the symbols on the boulders and stones were green instead of blue and the place was much more welcoming in her opinion. Her house was standing on an island floation in nothingness but it had a small garden filled with flora from all of the worlds she has visited. The building itself was quite nice as well. Ivy covered some of the stone walls and bent around the windows as not to obstruct the view outside. There were 5 rooms inside: a small kitchen, her room, a living space with a fireplace that dubled as a study, a bathroom and the workshop.

Ah yes, she loved her workshop. It was the biggest room of the house, located at the back wall with big windows. There she has spent countless nights tinkering with talismans, potions and most of all, weapons. But she didn't make weapons like the blacksmiths of Tristone or the White City, no. (Y/N) specialized in an unusual type of weaponry. Some of them were mechanical, some were cursed but all of them were strange in one way or another.

But today was not a workday, today was a day to think about the new character she has met - Death. He never introduced himself but she knew who he was from the moment her eyes landed on his face covered by that skull-like mask. But what was the oldest horseman of the apocalypse doing here in the Forge Lands of all places. The tranquility of the world was what lured her there, the lush green forests and beautiful flowers, the clear waters flowing in the rivers. But this man wouldn't go somewhere just because it is a pretty place. There was a chance that he was here to help with the corruption that spread in the land but that wasn't right either. The Charred Council cared for the ballance, that was true, but they wouldn't send someone so important to deal with this thing. The makers were strong enough to survive the corruption for much longer so it wasn't like their early demise would be a thread to the so called ballance. They were to last much longer. Just what was he here for?

That was a flaw (Y/N) just couldn't get rid of in all her long years of life, she was more curious than a child. The girl needed to know everything about anything she has encountered and would go great lenghts to find out new information. She has stolen books from demons and angels alike, she infiltrated bases of strong characters just to know what was going inside. Her fascination by the world was almost unreal. And now that she was interested, there was no way she would let it go. She needed to know what Death wanted in the maker realm.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?" called a raspy voice from her doorway.

"Vulgrim! What brings you to my little home?" she chirped with a big smile.

Vulgrim was the only one allowed to enter The Crevice except for her so he could visit her at times. She hasn't seen him in a few days so she was quite happy that he stopped by.

"A new face is travelling the Forge Lands. I came here to tell you about him in case you have not met him yet."

"Ah, you mean Death, the horseman, right?"

"So you have met him!" Vulgrim grinned,"I am sure you are curious about him."

"Oh, you know me too well, dear friend. I cannot seems to be able to put my finger on why one of the nephilim would come here out of all places..."

"It does seem that he is not here by his own will from what I have gathered. And with the corruption around, there is no way for him to get away until he gets rid of it." said the demon, "But I do have to ask, was he polite when he met you?"

With that (Y/N) broke into a fit of laughter. Vulgrim smiled, it wasn't often that he saw her laugh this genuinely.

"Far from that actually," the girl was still laughing, "he looked just about ready to end me. I think the only thing that stopped him from digging one of those scythes of his into my skull was the fact that his crow took a liking to me. To be honest, he looked kind of betrayed when the bird accepted my affection."

"I am not suprised by that at all," Vulgrim chuckled, "he is rather protective of his feathered companion. But it is quite saddening that he was so rude, I even specifically told him to be polite." he said with fake hurt in his voice.

"I guess the _great_ horseman is way too important to listen to good ol' Vulgrim." she smirked.

"Right you are! The day Death listens to my advice will be the day all the worlds come to an end." he grinned back mischievously.

Suddenly a tapping sound echoed through The Crevice. (Y/N) lifted her head and stood up.

"It seems that someone in the Forge Lands has come to visit me. I should go check who it is."

"But of course! I was just stopping by for a moment anyway." said Vulgrim as he waved his bony hand at her.

"See you soon, Vulgrim!" she called to him and both dissapeared in a puff of smoke.

***

"Hello and welcome, to my little shop!" called (Y/N) cheerfully right as her figure shot out of the glyph in the grass.

She knew that there was nothing to be afraid of. Only the makers knocked on her door when she wasn't outside and none of them were hostile in any way. The black haired girl looked up to see a tall ginger in front of her.

"Ah, Alya. Did you finally decide to seek my help in weapon smithery?" she asked smugly.

"Hello to you too, fairy merchant. And to answer your question, no, I do not need help in my own line of work. But some time ago I have gotten my hands on something that isn't really my area of expertise... Could you get it working again?" the maker asked as she pulled out an object from her pocket.

The merchant could feel excitement fill her whole being. Was this really what she thought it was? There was no mistaking it. The sleek surface of the weapon was crafted delicately but crudely at the same time, a type of look that all nephilim weapons shared. But if this really was _that_ thing, how come Alya had it and not the original owner? Oh well, she would think about that later.

"Is... Is that _Redemption_? How did you get your hands on such a thing? Also, would you be so kind and stop calling me a fairy?"

"It is Strife's weapon but how I got it is a story for another time. The only question is, can you fix it?"

"I can try. It doesn't seem too damaged so it should be possible."

"Good. Name your price then." said the maker sternly but a little bit of fright was heard under her steady tone.

She was afraid of what the girl would ask for. It seemed that she would pay almost anything, the gun was THAT important. (Y/N) pondered about it for a second but she knew that the decision has already been made the moment her eyes landed on the giant revolver. She faced the blacksmith fully and offered her a sweet smile.

"I don't want anything for it."

Alya's eyes almost bulged out of her head.

"W-WHAT!? But that can't be right, you wouldn't do something just like that, for free!" 

"Normally I wouldn't..." the pale girl looked at her feet, "But I can hear the desperation in your voice. You need that gun, so much so that you were willing to ask a price without saying a maximum first. You never do that, Alya, it's dangerous. Especially with merchants like me. Do you think I haven't noticed the corruption slowly swallowing the Forge Lands? And when there is a horseman of the apocalypse running around and you suddenly show up with his brother's weapon, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he needs it to save you guys."

"That still doesn't explain why you wouldn't ask for payment. Merchants profit on war."

"Guess I am not like the others then. I like this place, I don't want all of it's beauty to be destroyed by that disgusting black thing. Helping in the case of perserving the Forge Lands and working with such an amazing weapon is payment enough."

For a moment Alya just stared at her. Then she chuckled and shook her head a little.

"You really are something else, fairy girl! I don't know what you are but you aren't fooling anyone into thinking you are a demon. They don't do kindness like you do."

"How would you know?" (Y/N) smirked a little, "If angels can become evil, can demons not be good? And even if I wasn't one, I definitely am not a fairy so please, stop calling me that."

"Sorry, little one. I just read about them in a human book once. Creatures like you, can look like anything but have a kind heart." the maker smiled down at her.

"Whatever... Just don't call me that."

She turned her back to the maker and walked back to her portal with Redemption in hand. Before she diddapeared, she looked back at Alya and said: "Come pick it up tomorrow at sunrise! And don't send anyone else."

And with that, she was gone, leaving the maker standing alone in the forest clearing.

***

The smell of gunpowder filled the little workshop as (Y/N) started taking Redemption apart. The insides of it were pulsing with magic and life but the girl wasn't afraid. She knew that all the nephilim weapons were alive and that was the fascinating thing about them. This gun could tell her many stories.

She stared at the bullets on the desktop in deep thought, inhaling the air filled with the unfamiliar feeling of the strange revolver. It smelled of sin, some of it commited on purpose, some for fun, some unknowingly, some even unwillingly. It smelled of sorrow and guilt that it felt the same way it's weilder once did. It smelled of blood and war, held in the screams that sounded in the last moments of it's victims. And lastly, it smelled of dust and ashes, the only thing left after it left yet another place in ruins even when it was created to protect.

Dust and ashes... she wondered if that was a smell that all the horsemen shared. It was one of the first things she noticed about Death when he found her shop.

Her thin fingers carefully took the gun apart and her sharp eyes examined the metal layed out in front of her. Finally she found a piece of steel that had a little dent in it. Whe she recalled where it was placed when the weapon was still intact, it was obvious that it was in the way of the bullets getting out. And with each and every try to shoot from it, the deformation got bigger. But it wouldn't be that difficult to fix.

The had her small forge already heated up so she took a pair of pliers and picked up the piece. As it was heating up in the burning embers, she got all her other equipment ready. Soon it was placed on an anvil as she mercilessly beat it with a hammer to it's original shape. Whe she was satisfied, she threw the hammer over her shoulder and hurried to dip the thing in cold water so it would cool down fast.

The rest of the night was spent putting the gun back together and running countless tests on it to ensure it was working perfectly and was safe to use. (Y/N) didn't get any sleep but it was totally worth it to her. The weapon, a bit too big for her, was a masterpiece and she absolutely fell in love with it no matter the minor inconveniences. She even managed to somehow put together a blueprint of it so she could try and replicate it later. 

Before she knew it, morning came close and it was time to head out and wait for Alya. What a shame she needed it so soon, she would gladly keep it for eternity.

***

"Here you go, as good as new." she smiled and handed the gun to Alya, alas a little reculantly.

"Are you sure you don't want anything for it?" the blacksmith asked cautiously.

"It is alright, really."

"As you wish then... Thank you."

"You are welcome, Alya." the girl smiled at her warmly, "Just be careful. The corruption is unpredictable...Fight it before it is too late to start."

The maker nodded: "I will remember that. Also, Muria sends her regards. She said that the charmed water you gave her for her flowers works wonders."

"Glad to know that."

Before Alya could walk away, (Y/N) called out to her one last time: "And Alya?"

She stopped and turned around.

"Yes?"

"I... I will be gone for a while. Do you need anything else before I go?"

"No, you have already done more than enough. Stay safe on your travels, (Y/N)"

"You too. And send my regards to Death." and with that, she was gone again.

***

(Y/N) spent two days working on a replica of Redemption. It wasn't the same but the unlimited ammount of bullets was enough for her. She also made it smaller so she could use it better.

A big sheathed sword rested on her back ready to be used at any time, daggers were hidden in almost every fold of her clothes and she strapped her new gun to her hip. She was ready to leave. Some might think she was going to go after Death and find out what he was up to... But she already knew that from Vulgrim so there was no need. Instead, she was headed towards The Veil, a world where the Crowfather resided. But it was so much more than that to her and it was time to finally go for a visit.

She nailed a letter for Vulgrim to her front door before she walked through the garden. Stones flew up to form a path for her and with confident and powerful steps she set off to her destination.


	4. Silence

"Crowfather!" the shout echoed through the cold air of The Veil but no answer came.

"Crowfather, where are you!?" she screamed at the top of her lungs but the silence remained untouched after her voice dissapeared.

She looked around. The old man's black throne was still there like it was when she was leaving the realm last time. Crows flocked the already dark sky and their shadows erased the last traces of a sun ever shining there. Wind blew slowly and sometimes increased in strength enough to bend the few trees growing in the area. But the man was nowhere to be seen. Another step in the direction of the throne was made and a clink made its way to (Y/N)'s ears.

She looked down and there she saw big metal handcuffs lying on the ground. And in one of the cuffs, a white bone rested, rid on any muscle. Breath hitched in her throat as she stared at it, trying to tell herself that it wasn't what it seemed. But deep down she already knew that there was no use in trying to find excuses. The Crowfather... The Keeper of secrets and one of her teachers... was dead. Just who could have done it? Of course, he had it coming with that attidute of his but his enemy must have been very dangerous to be capable of killing him.

She sighed. There was no lust for revenge in her heart, she knew that it would be a waste of her time and that he wouldn't want it anyway. All she could hope for that now that he was dead, the voices of the souls of the slaughtered nephilim race finally stopped driving him crazy and let him leave in peace. She gently picked the handcuffs up and make her way to the throne. There she layed them along with the bone she found and kneeled down to tell him her last goodbye.

"Maybe it was a salvation of sorts for you, wasn't it, Father of crows? I wish you a safe jurney into the underworld." she whispered in a quiet prayer, fully aware that her words would never reach his ears.

There was no point in dwelling on the past now. She was no Keeper of Secrets but he passed a lot of his knowlege down onto her. And she wouldn't let it go to waste. And still, even after so many years of losing others over and over again, tears were streaming down her face in sorrow over never seeing the man again.

After a few moments of mourning, she stood up again and wiped her eyes with her shawl. The cold crawling under her clothes suddenly felt much worse than before, seeping into her bones. After running her hand along the throne's armrest one last time, she straightened her back and started walking away.

Yes. she wanted to say hi to Crowfather and see how he was doing, but her destination was much further than that. As she was making her way through the heaps of snow, a crow landed on her shoulder. She smiled to herself and petted its beak. Of course it would remember her, the crows here lived for centuries after all. It seemed as if everything she knew now was eternal compared to her original home.

After a few hours, a lonely boulder appeared on the horizon. It looked foreign to the white plains around it but (Y/N) knew it has been here even before the everlasting snow started falling from the sky. That rock... it was the **Tårsten** and she considered it her birthplace. She wasn't really born there, not biologically... But it was right in the black lake inside a cave inside the rock where she became everything she was.

She finally reached it and entered through the small creak in its side. Tårsten was almost completely hollow, only acting as a barrier between the precious lake inside and the raging winter outside. Her footsteps echoed through the darkness and the sound bounced off of the walls. The girl started removing her clothing.

The first thing to go were her boots. She took them off and as soon as her bare skin touched the cold rock, symbols carved into the stone came to life with a soft green glow. As all of her clothing left her body, she was left standing vulnerable in the now dimly lit cavern. And the light revealed unusual markings on her bare skin. There was a ring of glyphs and symbols following the line of her collarbone continuing onto her back, passing her shoulderblades and connecting in one third of her spine and continuing along it down to her waist in a thicker line. There it split again and formed a belt around it. Two other glyph lines could be seen going all the way around the upper part of her thighs.

She slowly walked over to the lake and looked at her reflection. It didn't look like her at all... not like her now anyway. A girl was staring at her back from the water surface, (e/c) eyes wide and scared as opposed to her cold and stern ones looking at it from above. Her (h/c) hair was left loose, barely reaching below her shoulders. Her complexion was rosy and healthy, full of life and free of any runes tattooed forever, never to be erased. But the most prominent difference between the two of them was the absence of the big rough horns adorning her head.

(Y/N) smiled at her sadly. The girl in the lake was (Y/N) (L/N), the person she was before all of this. She didn't kill her or overtake her body, no, she just slowly turned into someone else but a memory remained here to remind her of what she has done to herself.

(Y/N) (L/N)... Was a girl who has just reached her 21st year of life when it all went downhill. She wasn't a girl anymore, she was a grown woman, ready to enter the hardships of everyday life, at least that's what she thought back then. Looking back now, she was nothing more than a child. But she didn't know that. She didn't know that Heaven and Hell really existed, she didn't know that her world would come to an end on the very same day. On that day, the seventh seal was broken and the apocalypse tore her homeland into pieces.

Out of nowhere, monsters started appearing left and right, killing anyone they could get their disgusting hands on. Then angels arrived and begun a battle that would be even more destructive. They didn't care about casualities nor about the world burning down around them. They didn't care for a human like (Y/N).

But she wasn't an ordinary girl, no. She was the daughter of a mediveal swordplay teacher. In the chaos around her, she managed to get her hands on a weapon of a fallen angel and got out of the eye of it all. Three hard weeks were spent running away but nowhere seemed to be any different. Every city, every village was ploundered by the bloodthirsty demons and prideful angels. There was no good or bad... they were all just as selfish. It was then, when she was ready to give up, when she met him.

***

She hasn't eaten anything for the last two days and her stomach was growling. But the thing was, the monsters ate most of the animals running in the forests and now she had nothing to hunt. Maybe she could... no. She wouldn't do that. Or would she? Oh yes, she was too hungry to care anymore.

She changed her direction and headed towards the outskirts of a city she has just passed by. Over the time she has learned that the demons and angels didn't stay at places like that much, mostly because there weren't many living beings to eat and the terrain wasn't fit for a battle. But there was always one or two scavenging there for something to bite on. She snuck in between the rocks, eyes snapping from one direction to another, body tense and ready to launch anywhere to save her life. Finally she saw her prey.

A human male sized demon was digging in the rubble in search of dead bodies. As slowly and silently as she could, the girl approached it with an angel spear tightly clenched in her fist and a rugged heavy demon sword strapped to her hip. The plan had to go exactly as she wanted or she was dead meat. When she arrived behind the demon's back, she took one last deep breath and lunged forwards. The spear went through the beast's heart as if cutting through butter with a hot knife and the moster gurgled on its own blood. Before it could scream, howl, growl, make any loud sound, the human yanked the sword from its holster and dug it into the demon's thick neck with all her might. And it worked, the head fell to the ground with its mouth opened in a scream that never came out and the body went limp, blood seeping onto the debris it was layed on.

They ate everything and now there was nothing left for her... **So she would eat _them_.**

Her face scrunched at the idea of what she was about to do. She couldn't start a fire, something dangerous might smell it and come to check it out. (Y/N) couldn't risk that... If she wanted to satisfy her hunger, she would have to become a monster as well... she would have to eat this thing as it was, still warm and bleeding. But what else could she do? Either she would do this or die. And she wasn't ready to die, no, wasn't _willing_ to die. The human race wouldn't fall to these creatures. Even if she was the only one left, she would continue surviving to see the light of the next day.

Or she would die because this meat was poisonous to her, who knows. The odds weren't in her favour but if she didn't eat she would die anyway. So what was the point in refusing food that might not kill her? With that last thought she took her sword and cut off a large chunk of meat from the dead demon's muscly biceps. 

It smelled of copper, as if the thing in her hands was nothing more than a hardened piece of blood. Tears welled up in her eyes as she brought it to her mouth. Was it even possible to eat this raw and not throw up right after? It smelled so disgusting, so real, so much like blood... so human. It had the same body constitution as a human and holding a bicep to her mouth felt just straight up canibalistic. But this wasn't a human, it was an ugly beast. A beast that would eat her if it had the chance. So there was no point in regretting doing the same thing to it.

She bit into the flesh and tore a chunk off. Quickly chewing it so the taste wouldn't invade her mouth for too long, she swallowed. It was positively the most disgusting thing she has ever tasted but she didn't care. Her body was screaming for more. And she gave it what it wanted.

(Y/N) knew she couldn't take the body with her so she would have to eat as much as she could while she stayed close to it. And that meant only one thing, eat until you can't even open your mouth anymore. Cutting the meat took too much time, something could come around soon and so she strapped her sword back to her hip and sat next to the corpse. Grabbing its arm and lifting it so she could reach it better, her teeth dug in and tore off another piece of meat. She felt like a wild animal. But she didn't care anymore.

***

Wind blew by her and the horned head rolled a few steps further from its original place. It stopped on a rune in the ground. Blue light and smoke filled the air above the symbol and a tall demon appeared from it. He had a big grin on his face.

"Hello, and welcome... to my humble store." Vulgrim hissed still grinning and looked at the head.

His eyes widened in confusion as he expected it to be a very much alive costumer. His gaze shifted towards the location of a human soul that he'd expected to be his payment... but that wasn't the case. Scared but also dangerously narrowed eyes stared back at him with hatred. Her face, neck and practically her whole torso were smudged with blood and she was still holding onto a half eaten arm, still connected to the corpse, but every muscle in her body was ready to bolt from her place and run. For a second they were both just frozen in place, looking at each other. A demon-eating human and a human soul-eating demon.

Finally the girl reculantly let go of her meal and slowly reached her hand toward her weapon, eyes still locked on Vulgrim, never once blinking. She was oh so intriguing.

"Well, you aren't the costumer I would expect... but anyone can buy from me. Welcome to my shop, I am Vulgrim, the humble merchant." he grinned creepily at the small human.

She froze in her place. Warily, she opened her mouth and spoke in a raspy, unused voice: "You just want me to come closer so you can eat me easier. I won't fall that trick, _Vulgrim_."

"While you are right about me eating humans, I am not interested in your soul in particular, little human."

"You don't even have to be. From what I have seen, your race is interested in the body as well, maybe even more than the soul."

"Oh, but those are lesser demons, my dear!" Vulgrim chuckled, "They even eat each other when they are hungry. I am much more civilized!"

She glared at him.

"I can see that. You have the tongue of a snake, luring its prey right into its den. The other ones almost never speak."

A clever little creature she was, he liked her.

"But I am no predator in this conversation! You have not seen me ever eat a human... I, on the other hand, have witnessed you just devour one of my own kind."

She bit her lip and he knew he got her with that one. What would she say next? He was enjoying this little game a little bit too much.

"You are not wrong. But that was a _lesser_ demon, wasn't it? What I get from that phrasing is, you are much more dangerous than what I have decided to make my prey today. You aren't afraid of me."

"Right you are, tiny mortal. I would say I am more intrigued by you than anything else. In my whole time here, I have never witnessed one of your kind devouring a demon. But my question still stands, would you like to look at my wares?"

"You see, Vulgrim, even if I was daring, stupid or suicidal enough to actually accept that offer, I still have nothing to offer you as payment. And I would very much like to keep my soul." she smirked at him with a glint in her eyes.

"I am aware of that of curse... but you seem to be forgeting one crucial fact."

"And what would that be?"

"He," the demon pointed at the headless corpse,"has a soul too."

"You wanna eat your own kind? That's disgusting."

"Of course I do not wish to eat him. And I will not, for your information. But as a merchant I deal in souls and I cannot just let someone go off without payment."

"Say... if I was to accept that deal... what would you give me for that soul?"

A wicked grin stretched over the merchant's face. She wasn't foolish and trusting, she wasn't completely refusing and scared either. The human in front of him was smart, cunning and ready to gamble with the world to try and stay alive. He wouldn't eat her, at least not yet. He wanted to see how she would fare in the apocalypse, what she would be willing to sacrifice. And so he took out a slim black rapier, a weapon much more fitting for such a small weak creature. Maybe it would help her survive for a while longer and it would definitely be more useful than the big one she had on her.

"How about this? I am sure you must be having a hard time swinging that big sword around." he held it out to her.

But to his suprise, the girl only looked at it in distrust and shook her head.

"A rapier won't do shit. It can kill an angel but necks of most demons are way too thick for it. It would break in the first fight, I don't want it." she frowned.

The demon was baffled. While she was mostly right about it not being the ideal weapon, he couldn't understand why she wouldn't choose it over that heavy piece of metal she carried.

"I see... What kind of weapon would you prefer then? I carry almost everything your little human head could think of."

"Do you only sell weapons?"

Answering a question with another question, was she now?

"Of course not."

The (h/c) haired girl nodded and furrowed her brows in thought for a moment.

"An axe."

"Excuse me?"

"Can I buy an axe for that soul?"

"Of course but how would it be useful to you, if I may ask? You seem to be much more of a swordswoman."

She smirked and her eyes had a predatory glint to them.

"Your race doesn't seem to respect the rules of swordplay anyway, they go for brute force. So I'm gonna do the same."

It seemed like a bad choice for such a weak creature but whatever. Maybe she wasn't so smart after all.

"As you wish," he pulled out a battle axe,"an axe it will be."

"That sounds good to me."

"Come and take it then. I don't have all day, little one."

"While just coming over and taking it sounds tempting, I would rather keep my distance, dear merchant. Me dealing with you is in no way a sign of trust."

"How are you planning to take it then?" he asked curiously.

"This is how we could do it. You point your claws at my neck and allow me to put my sword agains yours. You try to kill me, you die. I try to kill you, I die. So I will come over like that, take my axe and then retreat again. Does that sound good to you?"

"Quite an interesting way to do business but I can agree to it. But only on one condition."

The girl's body went rigid as if expecting him to ask for something she could never give him. How funny.

"Tell me your name, little human. If we by any chance both end up dying here..."he grinned, "I want to know the name of the person who killed me."

She visibly relaxed and stated: "(Y/N)."

"Come closer then, (Y/N)... Come put your life on the line for that axe."


	5. For the Balance

She smiled at the memory. On that day, Vulgrim didn't try anything and just gave her the axe without any strange behavior. After that she stayed in the general area for weeks, only once in a while going further away to hunt. But she always came back. She has spent countless hours conversing with the merchant from a safe distance, never once allowing him close but enjoying his company none the less.

Vulgrim was the only creature she could talk to during the Fall of Earth. He never once tried to make her leave or even attempt to kill her. But one day, about four months after their first meeting... everything changed.

***

Vulgrim heard her footsteps as soon as she entered the collapsed building they usually met up in. But something wasn't right about the sound. He knew it was (Y/N) but she was walking strangely slow and irregular. He appeared above the surface, ready to greet her but was left lost for words.

He expected her to stop at her usual spot and take no step further towards him, but there she was, holding her side, blood seeping through her fingers, and she was walking right towards him. Only when she was in an arm's reach from him did she stop and she lifted her head to look up at the suprised demon. Her eyes were filled with sorrow, pain and something he couldn't recognize. Then she smiled up at him weakly, face filled with warmth and affection, and even more blood started dripping to the cobblestone floor.

"Hey Vulgrim? Can you do something for me?"

He could only nod, still too confused about what was going on. How could so much blood even fit into that tiny body? There was so much all around, there had to be close to none left inside. If this continued, she would run dry... Why wasn't the human trying to stop the bleeding, why wasn't she tending to the wound? Instead she was here, asking for who knows what.

"Can you... kill me, Vulgrim?" her voice was a soft whisper but dead serious at the same time.

What the hell was going on? She always did everything to survive and now, just like that, she wanted to die?

"Why?"

Without answering, she lifted up her shirt to show him her stomach. Pieces of debris were stuck in her flesh and deep bleeding cuts ate away at her right side. A whole half of her waist area has turned into a bloody mush of torn apart meat, spilling blood and slightly exposed pieces of the lower part of her ribcage. She was completely and utterly broken, like a porcelain doll that has fallen to the hard ground and shattered into a thousand of little shards.

"It won't heal, Vulgrim... Maybe if I was a demon, I would have had a chance. But I don't regenerate fast like you guys do. Hell, it will probably get infected by tomorrow and if something doesn't find and eat me before that, I will be gone in a week. And it will be painful, more than you can even imagine. This is Game over for me."

He still just stared at her with eyes widened, unable to answer her.

"Please... _it would hurt less from a friend_."

***

When she said it that day, she meant it. Vulgrim was her only friend in the whole world. She expected him to laugh at her, tell her that demons don't _do_ _friends_... but he didn't. He took her to The Void on that day and dosed her with healing potions and other stuff... After a bit more than a week she was as healthy as ever. When she asked him why he did it, he answered that ' _friends don't let friends die'_.

After the incident, she became much closer to the demon and didn't mind getting close to him anymore. It was fascinating to her, really, that Vulgrim considered her his friend and didn't want anything in return for saving her life. After all, he was a strong being that invaded her hmeland and who was she? Just a puny mortal, a little creature he could have easily crushed under his foot. But she was forever gratefull for his friendship, it gave her hope in the broken world she lived in.

***

One day Vulgrim asked her:

"(Y/N), have you ever heard of the Balance?"

"I mean, you've mentioned it a few times when talking about the Horsemen you have encountered... but that's about it."

"From what I have heard, the Balance is crucial for the whole universe. If it was to be disturbed too much, it would mean chaos that cannot be fixed."

"I see... but where are going with this?" the girl looked at him in confusion.

"You... The human race, all of you are an important part of the Balance. But I haven't seen another human in months... maybe you are the only one left, (Y/N)."

Her eyes widened. Was she really the last of her kind on Earth? Were they all dead? Of course they were, she has witnessed her late best friend being torn apart by a demon. Her brother got stabbed by and angel spear that missed it's targed and died choking on his own blood with penetrated lungs and a hole in his chest. And her parents... They were in a skyscraper that collapsed soon after the apocalypse started, no one made it out alive from that building. Everyone she knew died long months ago and she was somehow still here, only because she has managed to make a friend of a demon. But was anyone else that lucky?

"Hey Vulgrim... what happens when I die? If I really am the last one, I mean."

"I don't know, little one... but it will not be pretty."

The demon breathed in as if he wanted to say something else but the words got stuck in his throat. His eyes were full of guilt and the girl couldn't help but wonder what it was that bothered him so much.

"What is it?" she asked gently.

"I need to ask you for something, (Y/N)."

"I owe you my life, whatever you need, I'll do it if I can."

"I don't want you to do it for me. Think of it before you accept, _if you do_. That decision would affect you greatly."

"Tell me then."

"I know a way to stop humans from dying out completely... But it includes you going through so much pain, you cannot even imagine it"

"Explain it Vulgrim."

"I can make you live forever. For as long as demons, angels, even the Nephillim live. But in order to do so, you would have to go with me to visit a place really far away. There is a black lake hidden in a stone prison, the water in it is basically liquid magic. If you were to perform a ritual there and accept it as a part of you, you would become a being with power cursing through you veins. But it is said that everyone who has tried it has experienced such a torture during the ritual that they killed themselves before it was completed."

It sounded horrible but at the same time... She would stay alive for as long as it took for the Balance to get used to existing without humanity. She would keep the world as calm as it could be just by being alive. And yet it was scary... Stories of immortal beings were told by her kind, always talking of the pain it brought with outliving everyone you've loved. But she already had that pain in her heart, no one was left here for her anymore.

If the pain made her end her own life, she would accept it. Her remaining years as a human were just days to the other beings anyway. But if she did survive, she would be free. Finally capable of learning magic from Vulgrim, finally able to defend herself better because she wouldn't die from just some measly infection. It was worth a shot.

"I'll do it. There is nothing to lose anyway."

"Are you sure?" asked the demon, "There is no coming back. You will stop being human... but will remain one at the same time."

"Yeah."

***

She knew what she was signing up for on that day. But what could she lose now? She became a monster that hunted and ate demons to stay alive. She killed, slaughtered, murdered everything and anything that came into her way, just so she could remain standing on the charred ground that was devoid of life and has been for months. She was selfish, disgusting, she didn't care for others. When she saw everyone die, she mourned for them but refused to join them in the afterlife. She didn't feel so alone that she would wish to die just to stop it, no. She was willing to fight until her very last breath, even if there was nothing she would achieve by it. She has become a wild creature roaming the Earth... So why not make it official?

And so she and Vulgrim took a serpent hole to The Veil three days later and walked through the cold blizzard toward Tårsten. In those three days, Vulgrim has taught the girl a chant she would have to repeat over and over during the ritual as well as what she was to do inside. On that day, he left her alone standing in front of the crack leading inside the cave with just a knife, needle and a wish of good luck. When they talked about it years later, he admitted that he didn't want to leave... because he was convinced it would be the last time he'd ever see her.

***

The (h/c) haired girl entered the darkness inside the boulder and a shiver ran up her spine. It was as if this place was a whole another world, all the sounds from outside disappeared and the lack of light was so strong that she felt like she would get lost even in her own mind.

Still, she couldn't let the fear of the dark discourage her, she has gone through much worse. Not to mention that the scary part had yet to happen. She slid her clothes off and layed them down into a neat pile along with her weapons and other belongings save for the needle and knife she's recieved from Vulgrim prior to entering the cavern. Just as he had instructed her, she reached out her arms to feel the ground and continued advancing until a cold liquid hit her outstretched fingers. There, she layed down the knife on the ground and slipped into the water with only the long needle in her hand. And then, she started reciting the words of magic.

" **Åh, Tårsten och bläcksjön nedanför, lyssna på mina ord!** (Oh Tårsten and the inky lake below, listen to my words)"

Her voice was low and ominous, one you would hear at a funeral, the foreign language rolling off of her tongue with sharply pronounced Rs. The pitch black was pierced by a pale green glow that emitted from the walls around her. It was very weak but it still allowed her to see the liquid she was standing in for the first time. It was thicker than just water and its color allowed no light to pass through the surface, reflecting the poisonous green. When she lifted her arm, droplets of charcoal substance clung to her skin. There was no turning back, she knew that much. And so, she continued with the ritual, exactly the way that Vulgrim drilled into her head in the short time they had.

" **Släpp ljuset och bli en del av mig när jag blir en del av dig.** (Release your light and become a part of me as I become a part of you)"

She dipped the needle into the lake.

" **Ta det som är ditt i utbyte mot den här metamorfosen jag ber dig om.** (Seep into my skin and color it black, take what is yours in exchange for this metamorphosis I ask of you)"

She lifted it up again, the liquid sticking to the metal like honey. A loud gulp emmited from her throat in slight fear of what was to come.

" **Varje droppe blod och varje plåsterskrik är ditt att ta, jag lovar er allt jag är.** (Every drop of blood and scream of pain are yours to take, I promise you all that I am)"

For a little while she held it there, waiting for an obsidian drop to gather at the pointy end.

" **Åh, Tårsten och bläcksjön nedan, tillåt mig önskan att bli mer!** (Oh Tårsten and the inky lake below, grant me the wish of becoming more)"

And with those words, she stabbed the needle into the skin of her thigh. She bit back a scream at the sting but she couldn't hold it in anymore as a terrible burning sensation filled her whole leg after injecting the black water inside. It burned and writhed, as if it was alive, a worm trying to figh its way out of ther flesh. And that was only _one_ drop. Her tortured shrieks echoed through the dark cave, bouncing off of the walls, creating a scary and miserable echo. Vulgrim's words replayed in her head like a broken record as she held back her salty tears.

_You have only two choices once you start the ritual. You either finish it or die trying, the water of the black lake will never let you leave once you've stepped in its inky waters. If you try it, it will tear you apart and swallow your body and soul, making you forever a part of the Tårsten... If you want to find peace, you can either complete the ritual and make the powers of that place obey your wishes or you can take your own life without leaving the water. If you decide to end yourself, your body will sink and decompose but your soul will pass on._

That was right, she told Vulgrim she would see him again, that she would be alive and well to do it! She couldn't let something like this discourage her, it was just _pain_. It hurt but wouldn't kill her, there was no reason to fear this out of all things. And so she clenched her teeth and gathered her strenght to continue.

" **Åh, Tårsten och bläcksjön nedanför, lyssna på mina ord! Släpp ljuset och bli en del av mig när jag blir en del av dig.** "

She could see the light getting a little brighter once again. Her voice was hoarse and raspy, throat already sore from all the screaming.

" **Ta det som är ditt i utbyte mot den här metamorfosen jag ber dig om. Varje droppe blod och varje plåsterskrik är ditt att ta, jag lovar er allt jag är. Åh, Tårsten och bläcksjön nedan, tillåt mig önskan att bli mer!** "

Another stab and another wave of torturous pain. The wound was placed neatly right next to the previous one. But this time, she wouldn't stop to scream, she just let the tears fall freely as she started reciting it again. And again. _And again_.

" **Åh, Tårsten och bläcksjön nedanför, lyssna på mina ord! Släpp ljuset och bli en del av mig när jag blir en del av dig. Ta det som är ditt i utbyte mot den här metamorfosen jag ber dig om. Varje droppe blod och varje plåsterskrik är ditt att ta, jag lovar er allt jag är. Åh, Tårsten och bläcksjön nedan, tillåt mig önskan att bli mer!** "

It has become a lifeline of sorts to her, as she mercilessly inflicted pain onto herself, carefully tracing the pale sketches of the symbols that she was supposed to tattoo onto herself to achieve her goal. They would never fade, never lose their power but they would also never let her be normal again. Once this was over, if she even got that far, she would no longer be the human she used to be. No, she would become an abomination, a chimera stitched together by the countless glyphs under her skin, created from a mortal and chaotic magic, bound by the chains of the ritual's power.

The room was brightening up after every single repetition with the glow of symbols carved into the stone, ones she knew all too well. After all, they were the same ones that she was creating on her body, ones that held the black lake's power under control. And just like the cave, she was attempting to become a vessel for the unchained power that surged through the inky waves, hoping to bind it in her fragile body. Her voice was getting louder and louder, the only thing she could cling onto in the endless agony that consumed her, she screamed the words with all her might, trying to overpower the sound of her own blood rushing through her ears. Her throat burned, the coppery taste of blood coated over her tongue and yet, she continued.

Countless times has she reached for the knife laying idly at the side of the lake, a myriad of moments passed that she wished to end her own life, if only such an action could free her from that fire eating away at her very soul. And yet, every single time her fingers closed in on the weapon's handle, it felt as if a surge of electricity shot through her, reminding her that she couldn't do it just yet. Because no matter what happened to her... she promised Vulgrim to see him again. And so she blanked out her mind, forcing all emotions, feelings and sensations out, only focusing on repeating those cursed words that hurt her so. And with every new puncture wound in her skin, more ebony liquid entered her system, slowly merging with her flesh, nerves, bones and blood.

Only one thing echoed through the cave illuminated by green glowing glyphs, the ligh having grown so much in intensity that it felt almost like sunlight if it had that shade. The ritual chant fell from her lips, eyes hollow and unfocused, staring blindly into space.

_" **Åh, Tårsten och bläcksjön nedanför, lyssna på mina ord! Släpp ljuset och bli en del av mig när jag blir en del av dig.Ta det som är ditt i utbyte mot den här metamorfosen jag ber dig om. Varje droppe blod och varje plåsterskrik är ditt att ta, jag lovar er allt jag är. Åh, Tårsten och bläcksjön nedan, tillåt mig önskan att bli mer!**_ "

_Oh Tårsten and the inky lake below, listen to my words. Release your light and become a part of me as I become a part of you. Seep into my skin and color it black, take what is yours in exchange for this metamorphosis I ask of you. Every drop of blood and scream of pain are yours to take, I promise you all that I am. Oh Tårsten and the inky lake below, grant me the wish of becoming more_.

The sinfull words of forbidden magic that has been locked away in that cave, only for a weak human to find it after millenia. Oh Tårsten, how long you have been forced to remain asleep... The time to wake up from the eternal slumber has finally come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The language used for the chant is swedish. I apologize if there are any mistakes, it is from an online translator and I only used the language because I thought it fit into the Darksiders world nicely and I like Sweden.


End file.
